


Glitter & Grease

by maddierose



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: 1920s, F/M, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Protective Siblings, Sex, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24177655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddierose/pseuds/maddierose
Summary: Jessica Jesus is the polar opposite of her charismatic and confident twin brother, Isaiah. Then Michael Gray comes into the picture, and she finds herself fascinated with the boy who's a mixture of civility and Shelby savagery. A girl trying to avoid the violence that the Peaky Blinders create, and a boy who is drawn to it. Michael Gray/OC.
Relationships: Michael Gray/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. Up In Flames

**Warnings: none**

“Oh, honestly.” Jessica Jesus reached up with tentative fingers to the unsightly lipstick smudge just beneath her bottom lip. She had been doing so well with her makeup until she accidentally brushed her sleeve against her lip, leading to a crimson stain on her tawny brown coat and the smear on her chin. She snatched up the sponge on the cabinet and started to rub irritably, surmising she’d just have to start all over again.

Glancing over her shoulder at the clock on the mantelpiece, she was startled to realise that it was 11:30. She was meant to be at the club at 12:00 sharp. However, considering how long this was taking, she didn’t know if she was going to make that deadline. Jessica let a sharp exhale pass through her teeth. Today wasn’t a big show, but being punctual was important to Castle Club. However if she was slightly late, they might show her some mercy – Jessica had been dancing there for a couple of years, after all.

The key crunching in the lock caught Jessica’s attention and she frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone else to be home until after she got back. Her father was preaching and her brother was with Finn Shelby. Unless a member of the Peaky Blinders had been sent over for some reason, no one had any business being there. Acting on instinct, Jessica reached into the chest of drawers beside the fireplace and fumbled around for the emergency gun. Her father detested firearms and had sworn never to touch one again, but it was a matter of safety. Just as the door was shoved open with a squeak of protest, she spun and pointed the revolver at the intruder.

“Shit, Jessie!” Isaiah held up his hands over his head in surrender, eyes widening at the sight of his twin sister aiming a weapon at him. Heaving a sigh of relief, Jessica let the gun clatter back into its place in the top drawer. She slamming the drawer shut and glared at Isaiah. She ignored the fact that her hands were trembling and wondered how she would have fared against a real intruder. Considering her aversion to violence and her slender, bird-like frame…probably not too well.

“I didn’t expect you back until late, and you shouldn’t use language like that,” she scolded.

Isaiah scoffed. Of the two of them, Jessica was always the one who was more like their father, Jeremiah. She took the Bible and her prayers seriously, more so than her brother did. Isaiah, on the other hand, was loud and reckless. He wasn’t as strongly Catholic as the rest of his family. She supposed they had their family’s association with the Peaky Blinders to thank for his boldness. In comparison, Jessica kept to herself and didn’t draw unwanted attention. She was very much aware of both her colour and her gender. Her love of jazz music and dance was the only thing that dispelled her natural shyness. She chose to ignore the fact that there were still many that called it the Devil’s music.

“Yeah, right. Anyway, I came home because it’s important, alright?”

For a moment, Jessica swelled with the hope that Isaiah was coming to watch her perform. Although he and her father didn’t understand her obsession with dance, they always indulged her. Isaiah came to watch from time to time, Jeremiah less regularly because of his frequent street preaching. Most times, Jessica didn’t mind that it didn’t pay well. Though sometimes the constant noise of their neighbours and the ease with which parts of their apartment fell to pieces made her resentful. Isaiah brought in some extra money from his work with the Peaky Blinders, but it wasn’t easy for a single father to support two teenage children.

“What’s important?” Jessica asked slowly, taking care not to get her hopes too high. She was always childishly enthusiastic at the prospect of people coming to see her do what she loved, yet she understood that she couldn’t expect them to come every single time she was performing.

“The Garrison’s been blown up,” Isaiah replied as he raked a hand through his curly dark hair. Suddenly the clock ticking down time on the mantelpiece, the lipstick stain on the sleeve of her coat and her still unruly brown curls didn’t matter to Jessica. The Garrison was the favourite pub of the Peaky Blinders and everyone in Birmingham knew it. This wasn’t a random explosion; someone had known exactly what they were doing, although why you’d want a dangerous, resourceful man like Thomas Shelby after you was perplexing to Jessica.

“Do we know by whom?” Jessica questioned, clutching her coat tighter around her.

“Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time.” He quizzically examined the lipstick mark on her coat with a raised brow. “You can’t go to the Castle Club today, not with all the bloody nonsense going on at the moment. It’s not safe for you out there by yourself.”

Isaiah sank onto the couch. It was tattered and worn like most of the furniture in the Jesus residence. He took out a cigarette and lit it up before patting the empty cushion beside him. After a moment’s hesitation, Jessica sat next to him. Her body was still taut with apprehension. Like a bowstring stretched back with an arrow ready to fire. Isaiah took a puff from the cigarette, blowing out a plume of smoke before offering it to his twin. Jessica took a drag as well, letting the smoke tickle the back of her throat.

When they were little, the twins had been inseparable. Their mother left them when they were three. Jessica could only remember the scent of lavender and her honey blonde hair. She didn’t die and she hadn’t been through something awful. Simply put, she felt the societal pressure of being a white woman married to a black man and suddenly decided that being a mother wasn’t for her. She didn’t even leave a note; she just packed up all her things and disappeared. They hadn’t seen her since.

For many years, Jessica was devastated at their family’s loss. She used to pray to God to send her mother home. Now she hoped she would never see that woman again. Yet her departure from their life meant that even as small children, she and Isaiah were heavily reliant upon one another. As they grew older, they developed vastly different personalities. Isaiah remained protective of Jessica, though – something she teased him about because she was in fact the older twin by nine minutes.

Taking another puff of the cigarette, she rested her head on her brother’s shoulder. She understood the logic of not going out during such troubling times, but she was still stressed at the thought of missing a show. For a few moments, the twins remained in contemplative silence.

“Is Father coming home early?” Jessica asked, handing the cigarette back.

“Not sure.” Isaiah slung an arm around his sister. “Haven’t seen him around. He’ll probably come back once he hears about all this.”

“We still need some things for dinner,” Jessica stated. By default, she’d fallen into the homemaker role at a young age. Jeremiah was a surprisingly good cook, and Jessica had paid close attention to her father’s lead. Now that he worked long hours to provide for them, it was predominantly Jessica who did the cooking. Not that she minded in the least. She thoroughly enjoyed cooking and the delicious aromas that wafted through their apartment when she did. Isaiah did try to cook, but Jessica often joked that they’d get food poisoning if they ate anything he prepared.

“Alright.” Isaiah eased himself up off the couch. “We can get Finn to come with us.”

No one messed with a Peaky Blinder, especially not Thomas Shelby’s baby brother. Although he didn’t cut an intimidating figure, Finn’s presence alone was a protection enough. Not to mention they were also less likely to be subjected to the occasional racist remark if they were with him. Jessica inspected her coat and the dress underneath. She was definitely going to have to change into something more appropriate for the market.

* * *

“Well, well.” Finn Shelby swaggered down the street toward the twins, straightening his coat and attempting to replicate the same effortless suaveness that his older brothers had. Considering he was thirteen, it didn’t quite have the same effect. “My favourite twins.”

Isaiah cuffed him good-naturedly around the back of the head. “We’re the only twins you know, moron.”

“Jessica.” Finn nodded in her direction, cheeks a little pink. Isaiah recently told her that Finn fancied her. She was often oblivious to such things, but now that she knew she could tell by his slightly coy behaviour that her brother had been truthful. Although Finn was a good friend and she found this new information endearing, she was four years his senior.

“She needs some things from the markets for dinner,” Isaiah drawled, as though the conversation of food and cooking bored him. Jessica nudged him playfully in the side, knowing that once they reached the markets her brother would cave and buy the nearest sweet treat in sight.

“Of course, I’ll escort you.” Finn offered a grin, linking his arm through hers which earning a startled look from an elderly couple passing them by. Although such glances were common and Jessica was used to them, it was Isaiah who was prone to strong words or threats of violence – especially if his sister was the one being ridiculed.

The trio made their way down to the markets and that was when Jessica got her first look at the damage that had been done to The Garrison. Thick black smoke wafted up to the sky from the remains of the Peaky Blinders’ usual drinking hole. Cops swarmed the street, urging nosy pedestrians to be on their way. Glass shards were everywhere. Finn caught Jessica’s hand and tugged her to the side in order to avoid stepping on any of it. Her hazel eyes widened as she took in the ruined pub.

Isaiah let out a low whistle, shaking his head slowly and stuffing his hands in his pockets as they continued on their way. “What’s Tommy think about all this?” He asked their freckled companion.

“He’s dead-set on finding out who was responsible,” Finn stated. “So is Aunt Polly. It definitely wasn’t an accident, but since we’ve gotten so big lately…” He shrugged his shoulders.

Jessica knew what Finn wasn’t saying: Who would mess with the Peaky Blinders? Someone wanted Tommy’s attention, but would they be happy with the cost of gaining it?

Although Jessica often disapproved of some of the gang’s less legal activities, she was also grateful. They had accepted her family without batting an eyelash. They provided a protective atmosphere for her and Isaiah. If you were a friend to the Peaky Blinders you were pretty much untouchable. Isaiah took it as an excuse to behave in whatever manner he saw fit.

Compared to the wreckage of The Garrison, the markets were a welcome sight. Smiling, Jessica took out her purse and counted out how much money she had. When they were younger, they hadn’t always been able to afford meat. That was no longer the case due to Jeremiah’s work with the Peaky Blinders. However, Jessica still saw it as a luxury item along with the sweet treats that Isaiah always insisted on purchasing. She hummed a tune from Castle Club under her breath as she shopped, picking out what she needed and passing over the cash. A routine she was all too familiar with.

“Did you want me to carry that?” Finn offered as Jessica started piling the food in the hessian bag she’d brought with her.

“Thank you, Finn.” Jessica gave him the bag, eyes casting around the markets in search of Isaiah. Of course he’d bought a candy apple and was looking the pretty young girl selling flowers up and down as he sauntered back towards them. Jessica couldn’t help but roll her eyes. How typical of her brother. She propped one hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows as he approached.

“Something catch your attention?”

“Nothing I can’t come back for.” Isaiah winked as he nudged Finn who wore a knowing smile. Jessica wrinkled her nose in distaste. There were certain things she didn’t want to know, and her brother’s recreational activities with the young ladies of Birmingham was one of them.

* * *

“Hat on the stand, Father,” Jessica called from the kitchen as she peered into the lounge room to see that Jeremiah had returned home. With a low chuckle and a shake of his head, Jeremiah obliged. Jessica offered him a quick smile before turning her attention back to the casserole she was making. There was the clinking of cutlery from the dining table where Isaiah was setting places for dinner. Jeremiah strode into the kitchen and gave his daughter a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I’m glad you listened to your brother and stayed home.”

“Well, we had to get ingredients for this.” Jessica gestured to the casserole. “But we had Finn come to the markets with us. Father, do we know anything more about who did it yet?”

“Not yet, sweetheart.” Jeremiah took the dish from Jessica and brought it over to the table, setting it down carefully. “But I have some news to discuss with both of you over dinner.”

Isaiah perked up at those words, as he always did when he thought he was about to hear some brand new information. The family sat down at the table and for a few moments the only sound was the rattling of dishes as they piled casserole onto their plates. Jessica enjoyed family dinners. She basked in the simple domesticity of it as if they were an ordinary family. Once everyone had served themselves, she glanced at Jeremiah expectantly.

“Let’s say grace.” Jeremiah clasped his hands and bowed his head. Jessica followed his lead, narrowing her eyes across the table at Isaiah as he heaved a sigh before reluctantly copying the move. It was no secret that he wasn’t quite as devout as the rest of his family. She kept her eyes closed as she listened to Jeremiah thanking God for the blessing they were about to receive.

“Amen.”

“Amen,” the twins repeated in unison before they started digging into the casserole.

Isaiah was too impatient to wait until they’d finished their meal before he asked Jeremiah about the news, so of course he asked through a mouthful of food. “So, what’s this news?”

“Shelby Company Limited is planning an expansion.” Jeremiah set his knife and fork down. “The boys want to do business in London.”

 _London_. Jessica let it sink in for a moment. She hadn’t been to London since she was small, and she could only remember it vaguely. People talked about London like it was the centre of the universe, but Jessica had found it colourless and dull. She didn’t understand why the Shelby’s would want to do business there when things were running so smoothly in Birmingham, but she knew little about such dealings so it wasn’t really her place to say anything.

“I want you two to get more involved in the company.”

The words made both twins’ heads shoot up. Jessica’s fork fell to her plate with a loud clang while Isaiah paused mid-chew. She could see the awe in her brother’s eyes. Isaiah had been pestering their father to be involved for ages, wanting to make some money however he could. Yet Jessica knew wherever the Shelbys went, trouble followed. She supported her family, but she wasn’t certain it was something she wanted direct involvement with.

“Involved how?” Isaiah inquired.

“They’re talking about buying The Garrison when it’s fixed up.” Jeremiah cast a knowing look at his daughter. “You two could help run it. Isaiah, you could do the books. You’d work out of the same premises as everyone else. Jessica, you would be able to headline shows and I know how much you love doing that.”

It warmed Jessica to know that her father took her ambition seriously and was actively encouraging her to do something that could further her success. It was true – Castle Club wasn’t a bad place, but she rarely got to do her own performances. If she got involved with The Garrison, she could make all of the music and dance arrangements she desired. The thought excited her, but she didn’t want to raise her hopes too high.

“Really?”

“You will both be turning eighteen in not too long,” Jeremiah said as he began gathering up the plates from the table. “It’s time you got jobs.”

* * *

“Jessica, love.” Polly Gray smiled as she warmly embraced the girl, kissing her cheek. The two women had a sincere fondness for each other. In the time their father had fought in the war, Jessica and Isaiah had been taken in by Polly. Yet another benefit of the Peaky Blinders gang being like an extended family. After what Jeremiah had said, Jessica thought it best to speak with the Shelby family matriarch. She didn’t want to excite herself too much if it was for no good reason.

“I hear business is booming.” Jessica followed Polly into the kitchen, shrugging off her coat. The maternal attitude Polly had toward the girl had sometimes made her yearn for her mother all over again, but she quickly brushed such thoughts aside. Her mother would be a poor parent indeed, and she was far luckier to have Polly. The older woman brought a tray over to the dining table, complete with a teapot and two cups.

“You probably also heard about The Garrison.” Polly eased herself into the chair opposite Jessica. “Arthur’s buying it, you know. It’s being rebuilt. We’ll have a grand opening once it’s all done.”

“That’s actually what I came to speak to you about.”

Polly laughed. “So it wasn’t just a social call.”

Jessica took the liberty of pouring them both tea. “Father said there’s a chance that I might be able to…be in charge of the entertainment there. Dancing and such. I know that Tommy isn’t all that fond of it, but if the pub belongs to Arthur…”

“Of course.” Polly leaned back, taking a sip of her tea. “I know how important it is to you. I could put in a word with Arthur. There are no guarantees, but you know there are always other jobs within the company. All you have to do is ask.”

Jessica’s smile was strained. She adored Polly, but she didn’t have the heart to tell her that some of the illegal activities that went on with the company didn’t sit too well with her. She would never turn up her nose when the Peaky Blinders had been so good to her and Isaiah. Yet she couldn’t see herself doing things that she didn’t condone. Isaiah had hoped she would eventually ease up, but Jessica didn’t think that was the case. Polly seemed to sense her unease.

“You’d never be made to do anything you didn’t want, Jessica.”

She knew that, but part of her dreaded what felt like inevitability. That sooner or later she would have to get involved with the grittier side of the gang. She couldn’t expect protection without giving something back. Jessica wished that her dancing would be enough. She was excited at the thought of helping out with the Garrison. This way she could run her own shows. She could dance the way she wanted, to whatever music she wanted. But with the Peaky Blinders, nothing was ever that simple.


	2. Devil's Music

**Warnings: none**

The gramophone in the lounge room was perhaps Jessica’s most prized possession. It had been a gift from her father for her sixteenth birthday and she had treasured it ever since. It was rare for Jeremiah to spend that sort of money, but it had been an indication of how seriously he took Jessica’s love for music. She had been forever grateful that her father noticed these things.

With the reopening of the Garrison pub due to occur that night, Jessica had taken to playing some of her favourite jazz songs on the gramophone. Although she had no doubt that the neighbours would complain about her loudly playing the Devil’s music, she found herself without a care in the world. Her dress was glittery and gold, complementing her caramel skin tone. She twirled around the lounge room in a state of giddy excitement. Perhaps she was overthinking things, but tonight just might be the beginning of an exciting new stage of her life.

Isaiah strode into the lounge room, fixing his suit jacket. Jessica’s good mood must have been infectious, because he took her hand and spun her in circles, eliciting delighted laughter from his sister.

“Are you two almost ready?” Jeremiah strode in the lounge room, examining the twins with a slight smile. Jessica crossed over and fixed her father’s tie, earning a peck on the cheek for her trouble. “Don’t you both look grand.”

“Of course we’re ready.” Jessica stopped the gramophone, took her coat from the rack and wrapped it tightly around herself, knowing that it would most likely be cold until they reached the Garrison. She linked her arm through her brother’s as they stepped outside of their apartment. Jeremiah crunched the key around in the lock as Jessica attempted to contain her giddy excitement. She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, wondering what tonight had in store for her.

It was only a short stroll to the Garrison, but that night it felt as though it took an eternity. The bright lights and the upbeat music drew Jessica in as they turned the corner, and she gave Isaiah’s hand a squeeze. Her twin tipped her a wink. She realised that she wasn’t the only one who’d been greatly anticipating the Garrison’s reopening, although she sensed Isaiah’s reasoning had more to do with alcohol.

“Jessica!” A familiar woman’s voice made her peer around the crowded space for the source, before a smile broke out across her face as she saw Ada Shelby – no, she insisted on being referred to as Ada Thorne – nudging her way toward her. Jessica slipped her arm out of Isaiah’s and lunged forward to embrace Ada. She saw the only female Shelby sibling rarely, and so it was always a gift when Ada attended a social event. Jessica found that she had many similar morals and values to the older woman.

“Ada, oh, it’s so lovely to see you.” Jessica allowed herself to be led toward the bar, let Ada coax her into a drink. Although she was not usually one for copious amounts of alcohol, tonight was certainly meant to be a celebration. Isaiah had already slipped into a booth with Finn and there was no doubt in Jessica’s mind that they’d be partaking in some kind of drug.

“How is dancing?” Ada inquired, taking a sip from her own drink. The question was asked with a true inquisitiveness, which Jessica always appreciated. Sometimes she felt that people only discussed it so there was something to say, but from Ada, it was genuine interest.

“It’s going quite well. I should be doing some shows here soon.”

“Tommy agreed to that?” Ada’s eyebrows flew upwards, and Jessica couldn’t help but feel sudden doubt. It was quite well known that Tommy disliked raucous music. Tonight was one matter, but regular shows was completely another. She foolishly remembered that she hadn’t even sought his permission, just naively assumed that because Jeremiah had suggested it that it had become a hard fact.

“Well, no, not yet,” Jessica admitted, tucking an errant dark curl behind her ear. “But I do mean to speak to him about it. Anyway, how is London?”

“Dreary as ever.” Ada heaved a sigh. Jessica wondered if she ever missed her brothers. London wasn’t overly far, yet it wasn’t as close as residing in Birmingham. She hadn’t ever thought about moving away from Jeremiah and Isaiah, although she supposed that it may one day happen.

Loud laughter caught Jessica’s attention, and she was astonished to see that Polly was its source. She was flirting with a man far younger than her, and clearly already drunk. Jessica could not fault her – she’d heard that Polly had recently been searching for the two children that had been taken from her. She couldn’t even begin to imagine that kind of pain. She hoped that perhaps Polly could see her as a daughter figure, as Jessica certainly perceived her as a surrogate mother.

As someone who did not regularly indulge in alcohol, Jessica was a little embarrassed that she felt slightly giddy after her first drink. She didn’t experience the euphoria she saw from Isaiah when he was drunk – instead she was overcome by a sense of overwhelming tiredness and the need to sleep. She crossed the bar to Jeremiah, slipping her arm through his.

“Time to head home already?” he asked, his daughter’s fervent nod making him cast around for his son. Jessica had no doubt that her brother believed the night was still young and she wouldn’t force him to forgo a good time to accompany them home.

“He’ll be fine, he can go home with Finn after.”

“That he can.” Jeremiah removed his coat and slipped it around his daughter’s shoulders. With a few brief goodbyes, they made their way out of the bar. She always insisted that they didn’t live far and she could walk from most of the places the Peaky Blinders frequented, yet after dark Jeremiah would hear of no such talk. Small Heath was dangerous at night for a woman alone, especially a woman of colour.

“Did you enjoy your night?” Jeremiah asked as they made their way home.

“I did.” Jessica bobbed her head in a vigorous nod. Her early departure had little to do with her not enjoying herself and more to do with the exhaustion that had suddenly seeped into her. “The alcohol just makes me sleepy, that’s all.”

Glancing over her shoulder at the bar, Jessica couldn’t help but smile at the music and laughter. Tonight was just opening night, but she hoped this was the way it would continue to be. They could all use some light in their lives. She couldn’t wait to bring joy and wonder to others through her shows. However, there was that doubt still there that refused to budge, a doubt that Tommy Shelby would let the shows happen at all.

* * *

To Michael Gray, Small Heath was a bold new world. After spending most of his life in a quiet little country town, he had found himself growing restless. So when he’d learned about his mother and his family, he was drawn to the town like a moth to the flame. His foster mother had attempted to convince him to give it up, but Michael had snuck out and boarded a train to Birmingham without her knowledge. Once he was there and reunited with his family, it felt…right. As though this had been the missing puzzle piece and now it was all slotted together.

The Peaky Blinders and their associates accepted him without question. Michael quickly found a friend in Isaiah Jesus, who was the same age as him. In fact during Michael’s first week in Small Heath, the boy offered to take him to the Garrison, a local pub that the Peaky Blinders owned. Although they were both underage, the bartender barely blinked when Isaiah ordered them both drinks and ushered Michael over to one of the tables.

“You’re going to like this.” There was a knowing glint in Isaiah’s eyes. “First performance in this place. It was a wonder Tommy even allowed it, but Jessica can be very persuasive when she wants to be.”

Michael was just about to ask who Jessica was, the lights in the bar dimmed and the band started to play. It was the sort of rowdy jazz music that would be highly frowned upon in the small town where Michael had once lived, and the way the lithe dancer moved to the music would have been considered by some to be scandalous.

Michael’s gaze was drawn to the dancer. She was tall for a girl, almost his height. She was also gorgeous – dark hair, dark eyes and a slender figure. He didn’t realise he was staring until he brought his glass to his lips and sloshed rum on his shirt. There was a mischievous gleam in Isaiah’s eyes as he leaned across to the other boy.

“Think she’s pretty?” he teased.

“She’s stunning,” Michael said without reservation.

Isaiah threw back his head and laughed. “That’s Jessica. My  _ sister _ .”

Michael felt heat flare in his cheeks, but that didn’t stop him from looking at Jessica. Even breathless she seemed to dazzle – once the music ended, her bright beam felt like it radiated throughout the entire bar. He didn’t know if he had ever seen someone filled with such genuine joy. Jessica made a beeline for the pair of them. Isaiah got to his feet and pulled his sister into a tight hug, picking her up and spinning her around as she shrieked in protest.

“Isaiah!”

“You were brilliant, sis.” Isaiah put her down on her feet, before stepping back and gesturing to his companion. “This is Michael Gray, Polly’s son. He recently arrived in Birmingham.”

“Michael.” Jessica tucked a stray curl behind her ear, giving him another of those bright smiles of hers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jessica, Isaiah’s twin. Although you likely already guessed as much.”

“Let’s get you some food.” Isaiah linked his arm through his sister’s, leading her toward one of the booths. Michael trailed after them and thought he may just have to get accustomed to this life. He had only been in Small Heath a short time and already he was heading out to the best bars and making new friends. He sank into a chair opposite the twins, Isaiah placing an order for some hot food.

“Isaiah’s right, you’re a spectacular dancer,” Michael stated. He found himself determined to speak to Jessica, to have her attention on him. The girl’s body was covered in a light sheen of sweat and her hair was beyond wild, yet there was something that drew him to her despite the fact that they’d only just met. Jessica looked shyly pleased at his comment, averting her eyes demurely.

“Thank you. It’s very kind of you to say so.”

“Have you been performing long?” Michael asked. He was aware of Isaiah glancing at him, eyebrows raised. It was clear that the other boy could tell Michael had some kind of interest in his sister, but he made no comment on the matter, allowing Jessica to speak for herself.

“Since I was fourteen.” Jessica shook her head when Isaiah offered her his bottle of beer, wrinkling her nose. “No thank you, just water.”

“Suit yourself.” Isaiah poured out some water into a glass and slid it across to her. Jessica took a few deep gulps and drained the glass in mere moments, clearly still exhausted from her performance.

“What made you decide to come to Small Heath?” Jessica inquired, tilting her head to the side as she examined Michael curiously.

“I wanted to get to know my family.” Michael took a swig of his own beer as the food arrived. Jessica hopped into it immediately, munching away happily.

“Polly suspected that her children were dead,” she admitted when she put down her knife and fork. “I’m glad that she was wrong. I know how torn up she was about it.”

“My sister is,” Michael said quietly. He could barely remember Anna – they had only been small children when they’d been separated. Apparently she had died in Australia, half a world away. The soft remark earned a look of sympathy from Jessica, who reached across the table and touched his hand tentatively.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. For your sake and hers.”

Isaiah nudged his sister in the ribs. She drew her hand back, nudging him back. They shared some sort of silent communication that Michael couldn’t comprehend – it must be some sort of twin thing. After a moment, Jessica rolled her eyes and turned her attention back on her water.

“Do you work at Shelby Company Limited as well?” Michael asked, hopeful that he might see more of her in the future.

“This is my work.” Jessica gestured around with a wide grin. “The Shelbys own this bar. I run the performances, of which tonight was the first of hopefully many.”

“Did Tommy really condone it?” Isaiah questioned, eyebrows raising in disbelief.

“Well, no.” Jessica’s smile faded and her hands shifted to twist nervously at her gold dress, biting at her bottom lip. “I thought I might put one on anyway. I didn’t see that it could do any harm. I mean, I spoke with Polly and she said there was no reason why I couldn’t.”

“Polly isn’t Tommy, and Tommy hates music and dancing,” Isaiah reminded his sister, causing Jessica to look even more concerned. It didn’t overly surprise Michael – his cousin didn’t seem the sort who was introduced in such frivolous activity. However, he didn’t truly think Tommy would condemn Jessica for putting on the performance anyway. Everyone in the bar had thoroughly enjoyed it.

“Yes, Isaiah.” Jessica’s voice was terse as she pushed herself up out of her seat. The enthusiasm was gone, replaced by a deflated look. It seemed that Isaiah’s words about Tommy’s disdain had cut down the girl’s confidence. “I’m headed home. Are you accompanying me or not? You know how Father feels about me walking alone.”

“Of course.” Isaiah got up as well, wordlessly handing his jacket to his sister before turning to look at Michael, who was watching the twins silently. Their interactions were intriguing to him – the way Isaiah offered his jacket without a moment’s hesitation, his complete willingness to come home simply because Jessica wanted an escort. “The food’s on the house, they know who we are. I’ll see you soon.”

* * *

Although Jessica was filled with a new energy after the performance, Isaiah’s doubt infected her like a disease. He was right – speaking with Polly was one matter, but until she had confirmation from Tommy, she should not have done anything. She felt like a child who had done something wrong, nervous about the prospect of being scolded. Rather than wait to be reprimanded, Jessica chose to visit the Peaky Blinders the following day to sort the matter once and for all.

Despite her performances being at the forefront of her mind, she found herself unable to stop thinking about Michael Gray, the charming boy she had met the night before. Isaiah said he was a friend and teased Jessica incessantly about his interest. Although she strived to ignore him, Jessica could not help but wonder when she would see Michael again, and hoped that it would be soon. Biting back a silly little smile, Jessica entered Tommy’s office with a sense of purpose.

“Jessica.” Tommy looked up from his paperwork, seemingly unaffected by her arrival. “I’m guessing you want to talk about last night’s performance at the Garrison.”

Jessica’s cheeks burned at realising that he already knew, and she struggled to ascertain what he might be thinking. Tommy was not an emotional man. He was very difficult to read, but she had the feeling he might be disappointed in her for doing it without his express permission. She clasped her hands together, ignoring the fact that her palms were clammy. She wanted to appear confident and assured, not as a skittish little girl who had made a mistake.

“Yes. Polly said that she didn’t see why it should be a problem.”

Tommy took a deep puff of his cigarette. “Polly isn’t me.”

“Then what do you think?” Jessica asked. She was a patient person by nature, but even she could find herself growing frustrated with Tommy’s inability to approach the situation with an actual answer.

“No more performances at the Garrison.” Tommy put out his cigarette, lifting his gaze so that his blue eyes bored right into her. “There are plenty of places in Small Heath for dancing and music, but this isn’t one of them.”

Jessica had been anticipating that sort of answer, but it didn’t ease the feeling of overwhelming disappointment. She tried to keep a brave face, realising that she would have to go back to Castle Club after all. Her dreams and ambitions of moving upwards, of running her own shows instead of simply participating them, had been limited to one single night of dizzying euphoria. Now she was crashing back down to reality, and reality was not so kind.

“Is there no chance we could do it? Not even once a fortnight or once a month?”

Jessica knew the words were futile even as she spoke them. Tommy was not a man to change his mind on a whim, and especially not at the soft words of a teenage girl. He was a man hardened by war and a life in crime, a violent life. He was right. Music and dancing were not for the streets of the Peaky Blinders. Jessica might like to add a little joy into the lives of others, but perhaps not everyone  _ wanted _ that joy.

Tommy Shelby certainly didn’t.


	3. Changing Pace

**Warnings: none**

“What do you mean, bankrupt?”

Jessica stood outside Castle Club with her hands planted on her hips, attempting to process the news she’d just received from the club’s owner, George Bethany. The man appeared truly apologetic, refusing to meet her eyes and turning his cap over in his hands as he delivered the bad news. News that was especially unwelcome considering the fact that today was Jessica and Isaiah’s 18 th birthday.

“Exactly that, Miss Jesus. We don’t draw the same sort of crowd we used to.”

Jessica had realised that there weren’t as many tables filled in Castle Club of late, but she’d been too busy enjoying her dancing to take note of it. Now that she thought about it, there had been evidence to suggest the club was struggling to keep afloat for some time. She knew that she ought not to take the club’s closure personally, yet after Tommy’s refusal to let her perform at the Garrison, she felt incredibly deflated. It seemed like one bad turn after another.

“Oh. I see.”

“I’m sorry, miss. Truly.”

“It isn’t your fault, Mr Bethany.” Jessica forced a smile, shrugging her coat tighter around her shoulders. She supposed she should be returning home to the apartment. As disappointed as she may be with the day’s events, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, and she could spend the rest of her birthday with her father and brother.

Jessica traversed the familiar streets back to the apartment. At night, she was usually chaperoned by a member of her family, or sometimes Finn. During the day, she knew the roads and the people well enough to need no escort. Heaving a sigh and releasing the tense set of her shoulders, Jessica fished her key out of her purse and fiddled with the troublesome lock before finally managing to let herself into the apartment.

“Jessica?” Jeremiah was sitting at the table, reading over the newspaper. He looked up at his daughter’s arrival, folding the paper closed. “You’re home early.”

“Bad news, I’m afraid.” Jessica moved into the kitchen and immediately set about making herself a tea. She turned her back to Jeremiah so that her father wouldn’t see that she was upset. “Castle Club is closing. They’ve gone bankrupt.”

“What?” Isaiah entered the kitchen. Although Jessica should have expected to see him at home, she truly hoped he wasn’t about to gloat about being right. He had been the one to tell her that Tommy wouldn’t approve of the Garrison becoming a place of music. Instead he crossed over and slung an arm around his twin’s shoulders. “Never mind that. You’ll find a new place to dance.”

“Perhaps one day I’ll be able to open my own club.” Jessica watched the pot closely as the water began to bubble slowly. Maybe that was God’s plan for her after all. Maybe everything happening now – Castle Club, The Garrison – was happening for a reason.

Isaiah scoffed. “That’s a mighty fine dream, sis.”

“You think I couldn’t do it?” She spun to face him, brow creasing into a frown. She’d already had her hopes dashed enough for one day, and she grew impatient with Isaiah’s attempts to dissuade her.

“When would you have the money?” Isaiah gestured to their surroundings, and Jessica was forced to take in her reality. A rundown apartment they’d only managed to obtain because of their friendship with the Peaky Blinders. Her father and brother working for the gang and doing odd jobs to make ends meet. Even a handsome marriage – something Jessica shuddered at, but that would have brought some sense of prosperity – was off the table for a girl of her colour.

“Isaiah,” Jeremiah warned, but it came half-hearted over the top of the newspaper he’d picked up again.

“Give me a few years.” Jessica folded her arms, ignoring the pot’s shrill whistling and rattling as the water came to the boil. “Being negative about it certainly isn’t going to get anything done.”

“You’d be best taking a job elsewhere.” Isaiah’s dismissive tone soured Jessica’s temper. Turning her attention on her tea, she set it to brew while deliberately ignoring her twin. He could think what he wanted, but she would prove that this was only a minor stumble in her path. Perhaps she couldn’t dance for now, perhaps she would have to do something else to make ends meet, yet she had no intention of giving up on her dream because of that. Realising that Jessica wasn’t going to respond to him, Isaiah heaved a frustrated sigh and marched out. She heard the apartment door slam shut and knew he’d most likely gone for a smoke.

“Ignore him.” Jeremiah’s voice was far more tender than his son’s. “He’s just being pessimistic.”

“Don’t I know it.” Jessica carefully set her cup of tea down on the table, sitting across from Jeremiah and watching as her father fished around in his pocket. He produced a fine gold necklace that made her eyes widen, wondering how her father had managed to afford such a magnificent piece of jewellery.

“This was your mother’s.”

“Oh.” They didn’t often speak of the twins’ mother, an unspoken agreement to pretend the woman just didn’t exist. Yet Jessica accepted the necklace that Jeremiah held out to her. It curled neatly in the palm of her hand.

“It was one of the few things she left behind. Never knew if it was deliberate or accidental, but I wanted to keep it for you, save it for a special occasion. Your 18 th birthday seems special enough.”

“Thank you.” Jessica swept her hair aside, reaching up to clasp the necklace around her throat. The necklace was light. She barely noticed its presence there.

“I know God has something special in mind for you, Jessica.” Jeremiah rested a hand over his daughter’s, coaxing a smile from her. “We may not be able to see what that is yet, but I have the feeling we’ll know soon enough.”

* * *

Family meetings when it came to the Shelby family usually included those close to them, which was how Isaiah and Jessica found themselves present for it. Technically speaking, it had been Isaiah who’d been summoned – Jeremiah was busy preaching on the street – but he’d insisted upon Jessica accompanying him. To what end she wasn’t entirely certain, yet she assumed he intended further exposure to Shelby Company Limited might land her a job there.

“This had better be good to interrupt my holiday.” Polly did not sound thrilled as she entered the meeting room, setting her coat down on a chair. She’d taken some leave from the company to spend time with Michael while he was in Birmingham. It was still up in the air as to whether the boy would stay or return back to his foster mother.

“Where’s the boy?” Arthur inquired.

“In the back room. I only brought him because we’re going to the museum afterward.”

“He wanted to come in and say hello,” John piped up.

“Shut up, John.” Polly glared at him, fiercely protective when it came to her son’s involvement in the family business. “There is nothing of interest to Michael in this room. Tommy, get on with it.”

Tommy clasped his hands in front of him. “Last night, one of our men had his throat cut in prison. This morning I had a telegram saying it was Sabini who ordered it.”

“Says here that Thomas Shelby’s next.” Arthur made a point of ripping up the message.

Jessica frowned, nudging Isaiah lightly in the side. The name was familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite have said why.

“Who’s Sabini?”

“Darby Sabini. London mobster.” Isaiah kept his voice low, but his eyes glued on Tommy. “He runs the racecourses there. He’s a criminal with a bad temper.”

Jessica nodded slowly as she processed the information. Tommy did have a habit of getting himself in trouble with some exceptionally powerful people. She heard rumour that Alfie Solomons, another London local, had crossed paths with Tommy in the past as well.

Quiet footsteps and the soft creak of a door caught their attention, and Michael entered the room. Jessica couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach at his appearance, and she ignored the knowing look Isaiah shot her. Polly turned her attention on John, clearly displeased.

“I thought I told you to lock that door.”

“He did. I used the key on the nail.” Michael walked over to his mother. “Look, I’ve been listening. I want to go with them.”

It took Jessica a moment to realise what he meant – she’d been so focused on who Sabini was that she’d only half heard them discussing their plans to go and buy a horse to put forward at the Epsom Darby race.

“You see!” Polly exclaimed, throwing up her hands in frustration. Jessica had known Polly a long time and knew how protective she could be of those she loved. She had only just got Michael back in her life, of course she was worried about losing him. Yet Michael was the same age as the twins, and Isaiah was a prime example of what young men of that age could be like – reckless and rebellious.

“I love horses. I could even help.”

Polly folded her arms over her chest. “Over my dead body.”

“It’ll be alright, Mum,” Michael assured her. “I’ve been to loads of horse auctions before with my uncle. They’re very respectable. People bring their butlers.”

“Yeah, and their posh wives,” Arthur said over his glass of gin.

John nudged Michael, smirking. “And their mistresses.”

“Let him come, Polly,” Arthur said, putting his glass back down on the table with a thud. “We’ll go there, buy a horse, come back.”

“I’ll drop him back at the house before it gets dark,” John added.

“No.” Polly shook her head, and Jessica didn’t miss the way Michael bowed his head to hide his disappointment at her reaction. “Fucking no.”

Michael turned and walked from the room without another word, but the way he slammed the door in his wake indicated his frustration. After a moment’s hesitation, Jessica hurried out of the room afterward. She would worry about Isaiah teasing her for it later. Right now, she wanted to make sure that Michael didn’t do anything in his anger. Closing the door softly behind her, she leaned against it and watched Michael pace back and forth.

“She just doesn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I know.” Michael sank into a chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It doesn’t make it any less irritating. I’m not a kid, and I wish she wouldn’t treat me like one. I want to be involved.”

“You will be,” Jessica assured him, “Just give it time. Isaiah and I have known the Shelbys for years now, and even then, there are things he isn’t involved in. The boys like you. You just need to give Polly some time to adjust.”

“I suppose so.” Michael leaned back in his chair, examining her. Jessica felt her cheeks flare with heat at his close inspection. “When are you next dancing?”

“I…I don’t know.” She wrung her hands. “Tommy won’t have it at the Garrison, and Castle Club is closing down. I need to find a new place, so it could be some time.”

“That’s a shame.” He was grinning. “You’re a very good dancer. I’d like to see you perform again sometime soon.”

Jessica definitely knew that she was blushing now, but the door opened before she could respond. Everyone began filing out, and she lurched to her feet the moment she saw Isaiah, straightening her coat. She could already tell that her brother was about to poke fun incessantly.

“It was nice to see you again, Michael.”

“Likewise, Jessica.”

* * *

When she learned that Tommy Shelby wanted to see her, Jessica felt overcome with a sense of anticipation. She doubted he would have changed his mind about her performing in the Garrison, but perhaps there would be some good news. She’d been praying most nights, when she remembered to. Maybe God would answer her prayers, and she would be given a chance to dance again.

“Take a seat, Miss Jesus.” Tommy gestured to the empty chair across his desk, and Jessica removed her coat and settled in, unable to help but shift around nervously. “I understand that your usual place of employment has closed down.”

“Yes.” Jessica looked down at her hands. “Mr Bethany said they’d gone bankrupt, so I won’t be able to perform there anymore.”

“I see.” Tommy leaned back in his chair and took a drag from his cigarette, blowing out a plume of smoke as he surveyed the girl across from him. “You’re a smart young woman, Jessica.”

“Thank you.” Jessica’s tone was uncertain. She knew that Tommy wasn’t simply paying her compliments for the sake of it. There was always an ulterior motive, and she had the impression that Tommy intended to utilise her intelligence for something.

“Have you ever thought about doing some work for the company?”

She had, several times. Although she didn’t agree with many of the Shelby family’s morals and values, they had taken good care of her and Isaiah over the years. Jeremiah had found it difficult to raise the children without a mother, but the Shelby family had ensured they were always cared for and protected. It was a debt not easily forgotten. Once you were in the Shelby family’s circle, it seemed hard to get out.

“Yes, but in truth, I’ve no idea how I can be of help.”

“Fortunately, I do.” Tommy put out his cigarette. “Lizzie Stark, as you know, is the company secretary. However, she could use some assistance. I know you’re educated and so I thought you might want the role.”

It wasn’t exactly the job that Jessica wanted or that she had pictured, yet she knew that it would be rude to show anything but gratitude. Obtaining a job within Shelby Company Limited wasn’t easy unless you knew someone, and fortunately Jessica knew everyone. If she declined the offer, there would certainly be others vying for the position. Jessica also knew that the pay was reasonable, likely more than she was making at Castle Club.

“When would you like me to start?”

“Tomorrow, if possible.” Tommy pushed a small stack of papers in her direction. “That’s your contract. You’ll need to read and sign off on it before you commence.”

Jessica flicked over the documents, knowing it would be a dull lot of terms and conditions. She resolved to bring them home with her, so that she wasn’t wasting Tommy’s time sitting in his office deliberating over them. The idea that she would have employment was admittedly an exciting one, despite the fact that the job wasn’t doing what she loved. Nonetheless, despite her abhorrence for violence, she wouldn’t be one of the people committing it.

“I’ll return these tomorrow.” Jessica gathered the papers and stood. “Thank you, Tommy.”

“You and Michael seem to have become fast friends.”

The statement was a puzzling one. Isaiah and Michael had also become fast friends, yet Tommy hadn’t brought that up. Perhaps Tommy believed that there was a possible attraction.

“I suppose so, yes.”

“You’ll be seeing a good deal more of him. I hope that doesn’t prove distracting.”

“Of course not,” Jessica blurted out the words with more indignation than she’d intended. Nonetheless, she didn’t understand that idea that Michael’s presence might affect her work. It hadn’t when she was dancing and it certainly wouldn’t now. A harmless crush would never get in the way of her priorities.

“Good. It’s settled then.” Tommy watched her retrieve her coat. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jessica.”

* * *

“I’m glad that you accepted the job,” Isaiah stated over dinner, helping himself to some warm bread and fixing Jessica with mischievous eyes. “Even if it does mean that you’ll be closer to Michael Gray.”

Jessica heaved a sigh, unable to refrain from rolling her eyes. Why was that all she ever heard from Isaiah when it came to Michael? It was true that she thought he was attractive, but she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that anything might come of it. Despite her romantic fantasies, she also had a sense of realism.

“That’s not why I accepted it, Isaiah.”

“But you do like him,” Isaiah pointed out, and Jessica wished that Jeremiah wasn’t out preaching so that he could chastise Isaiah for his constant teasing. She’d mock her brother about a girl, but they seemed to flit in and out of his life so quickly that she couldn’t keep up.

She fixed him with a glower. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“I think he likes you too.”

“Enough, Isaiah.” Jessica slapped a palm down on the tablecloth, making her brother frown at her uncharacteristic outburst. “Nothing will happen between us, and I’ve no illusions otherwise. So please, stop teasing me about it. It’s vexing.”

“I’m sorry, Jessie.” Isaiah started to shovel down the bread. “I stepped over the line.”

“Too damn right you did,” Jessica muttered, but the twins smiled across the table at each other nonetheless. They could never stay angry at each other for long. She should have expected that her first interest in a boy would come with its fair share of commentary from her brother.

“Why did you accept?” Isaiah asked. “I thought you were set on dancing.”

“I still am,” Jessica reminded him, “But…we do need money, and it wouldn’t have been right of me to turn down the job offer. It’s convenient, and I like to think that I’d be rather good at it.”

Perhaps the job would enable her to save up the sort of money she’d need to buy her own club or bar, the sort of goal Isaiah scoffed at. Yet she wasn’t about to give up on her passion just because it wasn’t working for her right at the moment. Challenges were a part of life, and she needed to accept them with grace instead of letting them defeat her. If this was the path she was to take, she’d learn to work her ambitions in with her job.

Privately, Jessica did also enjoy the thought of seeing Michael around a bit more. It had been apparent that he intended to stay in Birmingham with Polly, and she had secretly been glad to hear of it. The pair didn’t know each other entirely well, yet there could be no denying there was a mutual attraction. One that likely would never be acted upon, but there was to be no stating there was no spark when one certainly existed.


	4. Tinderbox

**Warnings: racial slurs**

The first few weeks of being Lizzie’s assistant were not a blur as much as they were exhaustingly busy. Physically, dancing took its toll on Jessica’s body a lot more – it was more exertion, after all. Nonetheless, she found that being run off her feet and taking messages and filing important documents where they belonged was something she was not used to. Therefore, it was more taxing, and more than once Jessica had returned home and pleaded with Isaiah to cook the evening meal due to the weariness in her very bones.

Jessica adapted to her new role with the enthusiasm she showed for most things in her life. Although it was not the sort of job she had dreamed of, she supposed it was more realistic. She missed dancing, and would come home to put on the record and dance just so she didn’t forget the feeling of it. She promised herself that the day would come when she would dance for good – it just wasn’t that day yet.

Having more money was a nice feeling, too. It didn’t add an exorbitant amount to the family budget, but Jessica enjoyed being able to buy herself small treats. Usually this took the form of a peach or two from the markets. She liked the fuzziness of its skin against her tongue as she took the first bite, but fruit had previously been deemed a luxury when they could have used the extra money to bulk up their meals.

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, Isaiah became fast friends with Michael. There was many an afternoon that Jessica came home and hung up her coat to find that the boys were drinking beers or even sharing a cigar. It made her smile to realise that the two were good friends, although her cheeks flared with heat whenever she saw Michael. She remembered her own firm words to her twin – that nothing would ever happen between them.

“What are you working on?” Jessica asked one evening when she returned home to find Michael on the couch, bent over a pile of papers with a pen in his hand.

“I’m going to apply for a job, with Shelby Company Limited.” Michael looked up from the papers, and Jessica’s stomach did a flip as his blue eyes met her brown ones. “Tommy needs an accounts clerk for the company, and I’m good with numbers. I figure that I might be able to work for him.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Jessica admitted, knowing part of her was selfishly thrilled at the prospect that she may be able to see Michael more during working hours. She didn’t miss how Isaiah raised his eyebrows at her from where he was situated at the dining table, puffing out a plume of smoke from his cigar.

“You should play one of your records,” Michael suggested, the words surprising but pleasing her.

“Are you certain?” Jessica bit her lip, casting her gaze at Isaiah. “The neighbours can get awfully annoyed.”

“We just won’t have it too loud,” Isaiah said, which she took for an agreement.

Delighted at the opportunity to play some music, Jessica busied herself picking a tune she thought Michael might like. She was very conscious of his eyes on her, although she elected to ignore it. Once the needle settled over the record and the music started to play, Jessica headed for the kitchen to prepare dinner. She wrested Isaiah’s cigar from his mouth – Jeremiah hated when they smoked when food was being cooked – and tapped it out over the mantelpiece.

“Are you staying for dinner, Michael?” Jessica asked, doing her best to keep her tone casual.

“I think I should probably head home.” He rose from the couch, and she wrestled down her disappointment as he took his coat and shrugged it on. “Polly – I mean, Mother will be waiting for me.”

It was no secret that Polly had become rather clingy with her son, although Jessica was not one to judge. Perhaps she would be the same, had her child been taken from her and they’d had the chance to reunite years later. She would not begrudge Polly her need to spend her free moments with her son, and she plastered a smile across her lips. Michael paused for a minute, taking in the music. He grinned at Jessica.

“I can see you dancing to this one.”

The words brought a smile to her lips, a genuine one that lingered far after Michael had left and that Isaiah teased her for. However, he clearly remembered her getting upset the last time, and the teasing only lasted until she had shooed him out of the kitchen to prepare dinner. However, as she hummed along to the record, when Jessica thought about dancing, she wasn’t dancing alone.

* * *

Michael’s 18 th birthday was celebrated with friends and family in the form of a dinner at Polly’s house. It made Jessica slightly self-conscious to know she was a little older than Michael, even if only by a matter of months. The dinner itself was an extravagant affair, and Jessica had done her utmost to help Polly with preparations. After the meal was concluded, the atmosphere became more relaxed, and drinks flowed more freely.

Jessica took the opportunity to sit on the large house’s front step, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders as she examined the star-spangled sky. She did enjoy social interactions, but sometimes she needed a moment or two to catch her breath and appreciate some solitude. The door opened, light and music flooding out momentarily as Michael joined her on the front step. He closed the door behind him, sitting down and lighting up a cigar.

“I hope you had a good birthday,” Jessica said.

“I’m glad you could come around for it.” Michael put the cigar to his mouth. She could not say she minded the interruption – at least it wasn’t Finn and Isaiah, who were probably drunk and telling tall tales. Michael’s presence was comfortable, as warming to Jessica as her shawl.

“I got the job.” Michael smiled as he handed Jessica the cigar. She took a deep drag and resisted the urge to cough. Tilting her head back to look at the night sky, she blew out a long stream of smoke.

“That’s fantastic news.” A genuine smile curved the corners of Jessica’s lips. She was proud of him, knowing that he had been mulling over applying for some time now. Michael took the cigar back from her and brought it to his lips.

“It makes me happy to be working with my family.”

“Is that what you always wanted to do?” Jessica asked, the words soft and uncertain. She didn’t know Michael all too well yet, and didn’t want him to feel that she was prying into his affairs. “Become an accounts clerk, I mean.”

“I never really knew.” Michael shrugged his shoulders. “I just felt that…I was destined for more than the little village I grew up in. I wasn’t content there. Now that I’ve met my real family, it’s different.”

There was a wistful note in his voice. The Shelby gang were often hellbent on violence, and it didn’t seem as though that perturbed Michael. Perhaps it even appealed to him. Jessica could not fault him for that – her own brother seemed to have hot blood in his veins, and it ran even hotter when violence was in question.

“What about you?” Michael turned his gaze upon her. “You wanted to be a dancer, and now you’re working in administration.”

“It was a necessary change.” Jessica picked at the hem of her shawl. She wouldn’t say she was uncomfortable with the topic of conversation – after all, she had initiated it. However, she felt as though she was being laid bare, her deepest desires on display. “I love dancing. I think I always will. But then Castle Club closed, and Tommy offered me a job, and…”

“You took it.” Michael nodded knowingly. “I can understand that. It’s the smart move to make. But if being a dancer is what you really want to do, maybe this is just a rung in that ladder. Besides, from what I’ve seen, you’re one hell of a dancer.”

Jessica’s cheeks flared with heat, and she was grateful for the dim light so that he couldn’t see how fiercely she was blushing. When she turned to look at Michael, she found that he was looking back. There was an intensity in his blue eyes that both startled and delighted her. For a dangerous moment, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

Then Jessica remembered that the world existed beyond this moment, this small space she and Michael had created on Polly’s front step. Once she did something like that, she couldn’t undo it. Michael was part of the most notorious family in Birmingham. It granted him privileges that others didn’t have, yet she didn’t know if it would extend to stepping out with a girl of her colour without shame.

“I should help Polly clean up.” The magic of the moment was lost when Jessica spoke, and she was somewhat relieved for it. There was no good in living in some kind of fantasy, where what she had with Michael was more than a passing flirtation or an emotional connection. They were friends, nothing more. That was all they would ever be – or so she had convinced herself.

* * *

“Jessica!”

Isaiah’s exclamation brought Jessica swiftly into the dimness of Michael’s office. Her brother was smoking, eyes on his friend as Michael continued to work. It was finishing time as well as pay day, as Jessica knew Isaiah was acutely aware. There was a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes as he examined his sister.

“We should go and get a drink, don’t you think?”

Michael looked up from whatever he was counting, awaiting Jessica’s response. Glancing between the two boys, she realised she had been lured in to be the deciding factor in some sort of decision.

“I…I don’t mind,” Jessica said quietly, not wanting to cause tension if this was a heated debate she’d stumbled upon.

“Look, they won’t serve a black man without a Shelby by their side.” Isaiah swivelled in his chair to face Michael. “They certainly won’t let Jessie in without a companion.”

Michael leaned back in his chair, but his expression was one of mild amusement. “So, you’re using me.”

“Yeah,” Isaiah admitted, “Come on.”

Michael shook his head, but he was smiling as he grabbed his coat. Jessica didn’t even have to ask which pub they were headed to – she was aware of Isaiah’s preference for the Marquis, since that was where a lot of the secretaries he went to flirt with headed to drink. Her brother could truly be predictable at times, but she hadn’t been out for a drink in a little while and certainly wasn’t objecting to Michael’s company.

Immediately upon arrival, the boys went to the bar and ordered three whiskeys and lit up their cigarettes. Jessica glanced around the bustling Marquis, tapping her foot in time to the music that was playing. It made her want to dance, but this wasn’t the sort of place for that – not until she ingested a few drinks, at least. There was a sharp whistle and a man walked over to them with a frown on his face and a bone to pick.

“I don’t drink with blacks.”

Isaiah swung around to face him. “Here we fucking go.”

“Paddy, they’re okay,” the bartender insisted.

“Not with me, they’re not.” Paddy looked like he was ready for a fight. Jessica placed a hand on her brother’s arm, but Isaiah shrugged her off. He was the sort to fire up easily, and she didn’t see this ending well. “I don’t drink in pubs with blacks.”

“So leave,” Michael said. Jessica didn’t think that was an option. The man wasn’t about to head out simply because Michael was insistent upon it.

“Look, my dad is the preacher around here,” Isaiah stepped forward so he was right in Paddy’s face, “He has connections, ask anybody.”

Paddy just smirked. “I couldn’t give a fuck who he is.”

“I’m telling you to leave it, Paddy,” the bartender warned. He clearly knew who Michael was, and who the twins were. No one wanted trouble with the Peaky Blinders, after all. Jessica’s stomach coiled with unease as the threat of violence escalated. She was fortunate enough that she hadn’t felt unsafe going out with the Shelbys, but she did now.

“And I’m telling this darkie to get out of here.”

Isaiah bared his teeth. “You know something, fuck off.”

“It’s alright, Isaiah, leave it,” Michael insisted, as Jessica tightened her grip on Isaiah’s arm like her hands could put a leash on her brother’s temper, “We’ll go to my cousin’s pub.”

Isaiah wasn’t buying it. “I like it here.”

“You and your slut need to go.” Paddy leered at Jessica, who recoiled from the sharp word. If anything could make Isaiah even angrier, it was insulting his twin. He stepped forward and shoved Paddy in the chest, hard.

“You fucking nigger.” Paddy punched him in the face.

A brawl immediately ensued, and Jessica took a few stumbling steps back to grip the bar. She knew nothing about fights, and didn’t want to know. This was not her arena, and so she stayed well out of it. Michael and Isaiah seemed to fare well, but it was the bartender’s panicked cry that broke up the fight.

“The white kid’s Polly Shelby’s son! Are you fucking suicidal?”

Paddy released Isaiah as if he’d been burned, stepping back with terrified eyes.

“I didn’t know.”

“Get out,” Michael insisted. When Paddy and his friends scampered out, he turned back to the bar. “We ordered some drinks, and we’re going to drink them.”

The boys clearly saw the drinks as a victory celebration, yet Jessica took longer to calm the wild beating of her heart. It was true that she and Isaiah experienced casual racism quite often, but never had it become that vicious. Michael seemed to sense her unease, and reached out to touch her arm.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Jessica forced a smile and downed her whiskey, trying not to grimace at the way it seared her throat.

* * *

After they had finished their drinks, Isaiah and Michael decided they wanted to head to the Garrison. The fight had made Jessica exhausted even if she hadn’t participated in it, and she really just wanted to go home, but she wasn’t going to cut the boys’ night short. Nonetheless, Jessica shrugged her coat tighter around her, although there wasn’t much of a chill in the night air.

When they entered, it was to no one’s astonishment that the pub was packed. Since the Garrison had re-opened, business had been booming. As Arthur Shelby owned the pub, it was easy for the trio to slip through the crowd and out the back into the private rooms. Arthur and John were already there, along with Finn, who flushed red when he saw Jessica. The older men took in Isaiah and Michael’s somewhat dishevelled appearances.

“What’s happened to you, have you been scrapping?”

“Some idiots at the Marquis of Lorne. They tried to stop us from drinking, but it’s alright. We fought them off. Arthur, we had to stand our ground and we did.”

“The Marquis, eh?” Arthur, John and Finn all rose, before Arthur and John pushed Finn back down onto the booth seat. “Where’s your dad?”

Isaiah shrugged. “Preaching.”

“Right.” Arthur and John straightened their jackets and headed for the door. Jessica had the grim feeling she knew precisely where they were going and what they were doing. Unfortunately, Michael had not been with his family long enough to realise what was about to happen.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“We won’t be long,” Arthur responded, closing the door behind him and John. Finn had taken his cigarette back up on the departure of his older brothers, his eyes on Jessica.

“Where are they going?” Michael questioned of the twins. She remained silent, casting a meaningful look at her brother.

“Marquis of Lorne,” Isaiah replied, heaving a sigh. “Shame. It was a nice pub.”

Michael looked taken aback, the same way Jessica was sure she had felt when she’d first seen how the Shelby brothers dealt with problems. Arthur was certainly the brawn of the family, and John was all too happy to follow his lead. Isaiah was matter-of-fact about the whole thing, as someone who had seen it happen many times before.

“Do you want a drink, Jessie?” Finn asked. It was an odd question coming from a fourteen-year-old boy, and she shook her head.

“No, thank you. I might go and get some air.”

Jessica headed outside before the boys left the booth. She could smell the smoke, heavy on the night wind. The Marquis wasn’t far, and she could see the flames from outside the Garrison. It left a heavy feeling in her heart, to know that the Peaky Blinders boys only seemed capable of solving violence with violence. After so many years associated with them, she supposed she should be used to it, but that didn’t ever mean she had to settle for it.

Was this to be her future? If she fell out with a man, would she have to worry that the Shelby brothers would beat him senseless? Jessica wanted to know she could live her own life without those she cared about needing to fear what might happen if they upset her. The boys probably thought they were being protective, that they were defending the Shelby name. Jessica wanted to be loved, not feared.

One day, she would have earned enough money to buy her own club, and nothing like this would ever happen there. Hers would be a place known for fun and laughter and music. She’d be able to dance again, and put on her own shows. The prospect brought a smile to her lips, even as she could smell the Marquis burning.


	5. The Kill

**Warnings: violence, murder**

* * *

Whispers circulated Shelby Company Ltd that Michael had been arrested, accused of being the one who had set fire to the Marquis. Tommy, being his usual self, would confirm nothing. It wasn’t simply Michael - Arthur had been taken into custody as well, on far more serious charges. With the organisation in disarray, Jessica couldn’t find the confidence in Tommy that she often searched for. Therefore, Jessica sought refuge in prayer.

Typically, Jessica would engage in such prayers at home, away from the prying eyes of the public. This time things were particularly dire, so she knelt before the cross and clasped her hands in the church. It was always a time of reflection and concentration for Jessica, and she liked being alone. The church doors creaking open made her glance over her shoulder. She was overcome by trepidation at the sight of Major Campbell, and she scrambled to her feet.

“There’s no need.” He raised a hand, a strained smile crossing his face. Jessica was cautious, knowing that this man was the source of Tommy’s predicament and the reason for Michael’s arrest. She did not often come across men who could truly play with the Shelbys and win, so Campbell’s presence was most troubling to her.

“Major Campbell,” she murmured.

“Jessica Jesus, isn’t it?” When she nodded mutely, his smile widened. He sank into one of the pews at the front. “I’ve heard of you. An accomplished dancer, if word on the street is anything to go by. You’re a good girl.”

“I suppose so,” Jessica said, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground. She didn’t think Campbell was here for her, but that didn’t make his presence any less ominous. She felt that this sacred ground had been tainted, and knew that her time of prayer was over.

“Your father works with the Shelbys.” Campbell shook his head slowly. “A mistake, for a religious man.”

“My father provides for my brother and I.” Jessica’s voice was firm, head jerking up. She refused to quarrel with Campbell, but she would not hear him insult her father’s choices. “He has known the Shelbys since before the war.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest and her knees were shaking. She wanted to leave and go home, but she didn’t think Campbell was done talking to her. Certainly an eighteen-year-old dancer would not be of concern nor interest to him. Then why did he persist in speaking with her?

“Do you think God would see it that way?” Campbell tilted his head to the side, brow furrowing.

“I don’t presume to know what God would think.” Jessica’s fingers found the hem of her dress, wringing it anxiously. She could not give him an answer to an unanswerable question. “I hope he would understand why my father chose this path.”

Taking a deep breath, Jessica forced her legs into movement, heading down past the pews toward the church door. She was relieved when Campbell made no attempt to stop her, although it didn’t prevent him calling out to her.

“Miss Jesus?” She turned to look at him, shoulders tense. “I would be careful if I were you. Good girls don’t remain so in the company of men like the Peaky Blinders.”

Jessica didn’t know if it was a warning or a threat. It caused a chill to trail up her spine like icy hands.

“Thank you for your concern, Major Campbell, but it is unwarranted.”

Jessica swept out of the church before the man could say anything else that would trouble her. Nonetheless, his words followed like a dog snapping at the back of her heels, one that she couldn’t outrun. She believed she had a kind heart, and she despised violence. Surely her association with the Shelbys wouldn’t change that.

* * *

Polly asked Jessica around for morning tea on her day off, and the girl gratefully accepted. The neighbourhood where the Grays lived was quite posh, and so Jessica felt self-conscious as she stood on the porch and waited for the maid to answer the door.

The house seemed quiet without Michael, with only the clink of china and the ticking of the grandfather clock as signs of life within the large house. The tea was stronger than usual, but Jessica appreciated the taste nonetheless. It was odd to her that Polly had said very little since she’d arrived, but perhaps she had been asked around to listen.

“I’m going to be picking Michael up today. He’s being released.”

The statement was matter-of-fact, with none of the joy that Jessica would have expected from Polly. The woman had been beside herself when Michael had been arrested, certainly she was thrilled that he was being released. There was something off about Polly, although Jessica could not have said what it was.

“What?” Jessica paused, setting her teacup down with a light clatter. “Well, that’s good news, isn’t it? So they agreed to let him out?”

“Major Campbell…” Polly was a woman of composure, so the fact that her hands trembled as she raised her teacup to her mouth made Jessica pause. She dragged a chair over next to Polly and sat beside her, alarmed and quizzical. 

“What happened?” she asked softly.

Polly reached a hand out to Jessica, who clasped it tightly in hers. With her free hand she took another deep sip of her tea, as though steeling herself.

“There’s usually one thing men want from women, Jessica. You’re an innocent in such matters, but you won’t always be.”

Jessica’s stomach turned as she realised what Polly meant. She was not as innocent as the older woman proclaimed - Jessica had seen the way some men looked at her, the way they leered, their eyes raking unpleasantly over her lithe figure. The idea that Major Campbell could have done such a thing to Polly was unspeakable, and it made Jessica grip her hand that bit tighter, knowing just what Polly had sacrificed for Michael.

“I’m so sorry that happened, Polly.”

“Don’t be. It was my decision to make.” Polly released her hand, setting her teacup down in the saucer. She refused to meet Jessica’s eyes, making her certain that despite Polly’s brusque tone, she was not alright. “You are old enough now to start seeing it. Many men won’t respect you. They’ll see you as something to chew up and spit out.”

“I wouldn’t be with a man who didn’t respect me,” Jessica assured her. She knew it was quite something to expect, especially for a woman of her colour. She was expected to make a match, not demand respect. Her prospects were not entirely limitless. Most likely, she’d end up with an associate of the Peaky Blinders.

“They don’t always give you that choice.” Polly leaned back in her chair. “Sometimes, when a man can’t have something, he will take it. You hate violence, and I understand that. But it’s the threat of violence from the Shelbys that has protected you.”

Jessica hadn’t thought of it that way before, but she supposed that Polly was right. As much as she abhorred bloodshed, she certainly may not be as well off if not for her association with the Shelbys. She felt shame colour her cheeks. Perhaps she had not been as grateful for that protection as she ought to be.

“I’ll come with you to collect Michael,” Jessica declared. She thought it might be prudent if Polly had company at this particular time. She knew it could be a dangerous thing to be left alone with dark thoughts, and Polly might appreciate the gesture.

“Very well.” Polly collected Jessica’s teacup and set it on the table. “Grab your coat.”

* * *

Isaiah wanted to have a party on the night before the Epsom Races while Jeremiah was out preaching, but Jessica had flatly refused. After some negotiation, the twins decided that they would have Michael and Finn over for some drinks. Technically Finn probably shouldn’t have been having alcohol, but he did what he wanted in any case. Jessica had often enjoyed the races, and so there was a warm fuzziness to the atmosphere the night before.

The Jesus apartment was loud with some of Jessica’s favourite music, the sort she would have danced to. A thick plume of smoke lingered in the living room, where Finn had brought some cigars for them to share. There were bottles of brandy and rum on the table, and several glasses with the dregs of alcohol in the bottom of them.

Jessica liked to tidy as she went. Although she didn’t believe their father would be annoyed at them having guests, she knew he’d not take well to mess being left. While the boys laughed and drank in the living room, Jessica made a habit of taking the empty glasses and plates to the kitchen to scrub them clean and stack them to dry.

“You can sit down for a moment, you know.” Michael leaned against the pantry door, examining Jessica as she set the dishes up to dry. The bruises on his face were beginning to yellow, the cuts almost healed. It had shocked and alarmed her to realise he had been brutalised during his time in the prison.

“I like to keep the place tidy.” Jessica wiped her hands on the cloth. Michael made her nervous. Not in a particularly bad way - his presence just reminded her of the lingering feelings she had for him. She didn’t want to become flustered, fearing that Isaiah may resort to teasing her.

“We can all help once we’re done.” Michael gently removed the cloth from her hands, his fingers brushing against hers and making butterflies swirl in her stomach. “Come on, this is meant to be a fun night.”

Jessica had to agree with him. She’d barely touched the drinks. Perhaps it was time she let go and allowed herself to have a bit of fun. She was so used to being the sensible one. Tonight she wanted to be a little reckless. Maybe it was Michael’s presence that encouraged such daring within her. When she looked down, she noticed that his hand was mere inches from hers, causing warmth to flare in her cheeks.

A persistent hammering at the door cut through Jessica’s haze of pleasant confusion. She headed into the living room, only to discover that Isaiah had already opened the door. There were three men there, bearded and red-faced. Judging from the scowls on their faces, the business they had was not good.

“Will you turn the fucking music down?” The biggest of the group was a burly dark-haired man who looked ready for a fight. “Some of us are trying to sleep!”

“Calm down.” Isaiah rolled his eyes, and Jessica couldn’t help but tense. Her brother always dealt with conflict aggressively. “We can turn it off in an hour. We’re having fun here. Join us for a drink, if you want.”

“I don’t want to share with you.” The man scoffed, examining Isaiah derisively. “I’m sick of the fucking noise. There’s always music playing here.”

“That would be partly my fault.” Jessica stepped timidly into the living room, hoping she might be able to ease some of the tension. “I’m a dancer, so I have the music going so that I can practise.”

“I don’t give a shit.” The man sneered at her. Jessica bit her lip, sensing that her attempts at resolution weren’t welcome here. She stayed where she was, afraid that any further movement would result in a violent reaction from one of the men.

“Don’t fucking speak to my sister like that.” Isaiah glowered at the man. Knowing things were only going to escalate, Jessica went over against her better judgement and caught his arm. She offered the men a weak, apologetic smile.

“It’s fine. We’ll turn the music off.”

“No, Jessie.” Isaiah shrugged her off, causing Jessica to step back. “I’m sick of men like them trying to tell us what we can do. How about you just fuck off?”

Jessica could feel a cold sheen of sweat break out across her brow. She was beginning to feel nauseous. Jeremiah would have been able to de-escalate the situation better than her, but he would not return home for a few hours yet. The tension in the room thickened and intensified as anger flashed in the eyes of the men at the door.

The ringleader of the group didn’t seem to like that. He grabbed Isaiah by the shirt, and the three of them barged into the living room. Finn swore and scrambled to his feet. Michael froze, seemingly unsure of what to do. Jessica took a few stumbling steps backwards. The threat of violence had never been here, in their house.

None of the boys seemed to know what to do as the man punched Isaiah repeatedly. The sickening sound of his fist hitting flesh made Jessica flinch, but it also drove her to action. Jessica fumbled in the dresser drawers and removed the pistol that Jeremiah kept there. He typically did not have it on him whilst preaching, as he was with the Peaky Blinders most of the time. She could tell that it was loaded, although she had no intention of firing upon anyone. With shaking hands, she pointed the pistol at the man with the dark beard who had started all this nonsense.

“Get out.”

The men stopped in their pummelling of Isaiah when they saw the gun in her hands. The other two exchanged nervous looks, but the ringleader just laughed. Apparently, caution was not something that applied to him.

“You really think I believe you’re gonna shoot me?”

He marched toward her, despite Isaiah’s attempts to wrest him away. Jessica panicked, her finger slipping on the trigger. A sound like a firecracker rent through the apartment and for a few moments, there was absolute silence aside from the record scratching as the song reached its conclusion. The ringleader of the men dropped to the ground, and Michael and Finn approached him cautiously.

The gun dropped from Jessica’s violently shaking hands. Isaiah was quick to retrieve it, putting a comforting arm around his sister’s shoulders as Michael examined the fallen man. He wasn’t moving, and Jessica could taste bile in her mouth as Michael looked up. His eyes were full of trepidation as he glanced at the Jesus twins. Isaiah’s arm tightened around Jessica.

“She shot him through the neck.”

Jessica was definitely going to throw up. She hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. She just wanted it all to stop. It had been an empty threat, until it hadn’t been. Now there was blood all over the carpet, the metallic smell filling the apartment. Her ragged gasp was the only sound in the room as Michael pushed himself to his feet.

“He’s dead.”


End file.
